


down time

by jhoom



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Hot Tub, Sex, Vacation, jacuzzi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 03:18:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7996645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jhoom/pseuds/jhoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrus and Shepard take a much needed vacation to relax and enjoy themselves</p>
            </blockquote>





	down time

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt from [@allaserenity](http://allaserenity.tumblr.com/) who asked for shakarian in a jacuzzi
> 
> This takes place at no particular point in time after ME2 (probably after ME3). And let me preface this with a note that I haven't written smutty shakarian in literally years, so it's not necessarily my best work but will hopefully get me thinking of more fics along these lines for these two :)
> 
> Thank you to my lovely and super awesome beta reader [mordinette](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mordinette) for all her help and support ^-^
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr [@jhoomwrites](http://jhoomwrites.tumblr.com)

Shepard lies back, resting her head against the top of the jacuzzi and letting the jets do their job.  One's shooting right into her lower back, relaxing the muscles tight from one too many fights and sleepless nights, and it's friggin _heaven_.

Over the bubbles she hears someone approaching.  Knows that stride before she peaks out to watch Garrus saunter down the path.  

Their resort is on a jungle planet, surrounded by lush vegetation that's beautiful and makes Shepard want to go for a hike.  Except that it's all about five times as big as on Earth, and she's pretty sure she'd get lost within the first ten minutes.  Oh well, maybe next vacation she'll find a place built for exploring.

Their room is actually in a large tent, luxury bed set in the middle on top of lush tapestries.  Even if it's technically outdoors, the amenities leave them wanting nothing.  Hell, the bathroom has more upgrades than the councilor's one she snuck into on the Citadel, and that was by far the nicest _room_  she'd ever been in.  

The back of the tent opens up onto their own private pieces of jungle, complete with a hot tub, lawn chairs, and a fire pit.  The distant sound of a waterfall adds to the ambiance, making the whole scene feel both cozy and exotic.  Garrus walks down the stone pathway leading to the hot tub, towel slung over his shoulder and a sway to his hips that's somehow so appealing.

Shepard turns around, crosses her arms over the edge of the tub and rests her head there as she watches.  He's wearing swim trunks, modified from a human design to fit his turian frame.  Honestly, she didn't know he owned them - didn't see them in their shared luggage - and she's a bit disappointed.

"You modest or something, Vakarian?"  

He freezes, confidence oozing out of him as he actually looks embarrassed.  "I... I didn't think you knew-"

"That turians swim naked?  Yeah, no, I am well aware."

His flustered surprise shifts to annoyance, just a hint of jealousy underneath.  "And how would you have found that out?"

"Once when I was like twelve my family actually had shore leave that lined up perfectly.  Mom and Dad plus Grandpa and Grandma, all the Shepards, we went to this nice hotel on the Citadel.  They had a pool, and I very much remember the turian teenagers that were goofing off in the shallow end of the pool.  The very _naked_  turian teenagers."  

Her grandmother had been completely scandalized, but the rest of the family didn't care.  It's not as though turians have any loose _parts_  hanging out, unlike other species, so there's nothing to cover up.  At human owned facilities, they tend to encourage swimwear, but other Citadel species could not care less.  Guess growing up with the occasional naked turian at a beach or pool kind of takes away from the shock of it.  

They stare at each other for a moment, Shepard batting her eyes and silently pleading.  Garrus' shoulders slump in defeat before he steps out of his trunks and tosses both them and the towel to the ground.  "Happy?" he grumps, though there's no real anger behind it.

"Very much so."  She can't help the huge grin that breaks out.  She pats the rim of the tub and moves back to give him room.  Instead of joining her in the water, he perches on the edge, feet submerged and resting on the bench.  He leans back, spreads his legs in invitation.  She doesn't need to be told twice, settling in between them with her back against the wall of the tub and her head resting on his inner thigh.  

"You're wearing a bathing suit," he complains, tracing along the straps of her bikini.

"Humans wear bathing suits, so I wear bathing suits.  Turians don't, so you don't," she teases in a sing-song voice.  

"Thought you wanted to embrace your inner turian," he chuckles, referring back to an earlier conversation they'd had about tribal tattoos and face paint.  That would have to wait for another day, but her skin tingles with excitement thinking about it.

"Yeah, but I'd prefer to do it in a way that doesn't count as indecent exposure."

His talons move from the straps to the base of her neck and he starts kneading the flesh there.  She groans and melts into his touch, always loving when he massages away the tension she's carried since...  Well, for years at this point.  Certainly since the Blitz, if not before.  He can never erase the aches or pains, but he does a damn good job of making her forget about them for a while.

"'s nice," she slurs after a while, head lolling to the side as he moves to her upper back.  "But you should come in the water."

"Turians aren't really swimmers."

"First of all, that's bull.   _Most_  of you are shitty swimmers, sure, but I've heard of plenty decent ones.  Second of all, this is a hot tub.  No swimming involved, I promise."

She can _hear_  his eye roll but then he gently nudges her forward.  Taking the hint, she scooches away so that he can get in.  Once he's settled, she moves back in and practically sits on his lap as she wraps her arms and legs around him.  "Mmm, I like this," she purrs as she kisses along his cowl then up to his mandibles.  "It's not so bad, right?"

Although she expects more empty protests about how he doesn't _do_  water (talking him into a long shower is enough of a struggle, despite the _extracurricular activities_ she offers each time), he's relaxed.  One arm drapes across the edge of the tub, the other holds her close.  "It's not _terrible_."  Which is more approval than she'd hoped for so she's ready to call it a win.

"Damn right it's not terrible."  The jets are a great pressure, the bubbles are amazing, and the water is two degrees shy of too hot.  Given how damn warm he keeps her quarters, it's a shock he isn't melting into the water in total bliss.  But he does slowly give in.  She can feel as his muscles loosen, the hot tub doing its job to ease the knots there.  

Speaking of loosening...

A devilish smile crosses her lips.  She bites her cheeks and ducks shyly into his neck to hide it so she won't give anything away.  Instead she lets her hand drift down his torso, along his abs.  She bypasses his crotch for now and jumps right to his knees.  She tickles along the spurs, catching a glimpse of his toes curling under the waves, and gently strokes up and down his thigh.  

Garrus has always been particularly sensitive there, easily aroused when her soft fingers walk along his skin and her blunt nails occasionally dig in.  The water mutes the effect, that much she can tell, but soon she can hear the change in his subvocals, the gentle thrum hitching on sour notes that give away his increasing arousal.

"Are you doing that on purpose?"  The fact that he doesn't clarify what he means speaks volumes.

Instead of answering, she slides from his side to his lap, straddling him and leaning in close.  "I have no idea what you're talking about.”  She laughs into his ear and nibbles the top of his mandible while starting to rock back and forth.

"Really seems like you do," he drawls, hands slotting around her waist.

"You complaining?"

"Does it sound like I'm complaining?"

She keeps her movements slow, the steady drag of skin and skin eased by the water as she feels his plates loosen further.  Rocking against him, his breathing rings in her ears and drowns out the sound of the tub.  She presses a soft kiss to his neck before pulling back to kiss the tip of his nose, then his eyelids.  His talons tighten in response, grip almost bruising but he doesn't try to hurry her movements.  

It's not the frenzied type of sex that marked the beginning of their relationship.  The 'oh shit we could die tomorrow' kind that made things get real heated real quick.  This is the 'we can actually take are time, we've got nowhere to be' type that's still new to them.  They haven't quite mastered it, but Shepard's made up her mind to try.

Eventually, though, her teasing coaxes his cock from its protective plates and it’s pressing against the inside of her thigh.  He starts rocking up to meet her movements, unsteady at first as he slips against the bench but together they make it work.

"You're wearing too many clothes," he whines and pulls at the thin material.

"I'm barely wearing anything," she points out.  The bikini leaves nothing to the imagination, merely the semblance of modesty.  

"Wearing more than me."

"Hmm, you're right.  That's not fair at all."  She kisses him, relishing the taste of him.  "You gonna do anything about it?"

This time he kisses her, one hand cradling the back of her head, fingers threading through the damp strands of hair.  The other snatches at the bikini bottom.  She assumes he's going to tear them off - and there's something hot about that, probably why she's been goading him into it this whole time - but he doesn't.  He pushes the material aside and then angles himself so he can rub against her slit.  

She gasps in surprise because damn if the tables haven't been turned on her.  This is supposed to be _her_  riling _him_  up.  But Garrus was always good at this, at exceeding her expectations and meeting her as an equal.  

"Fuck," she hisses and shifts balance on her legs.  She helps line him up so all he has to do is thrust up.  

Never one to miss an opportunity, he does just that.  His cock slides in easily, thank god, because she really doesn't want to have to get out of the jacuzzi and damn well can't wait until they can find a bed.  She sighs appreciatively and begins moving, small little circular shifts of her hips.  

He nips at her bottom lip, licks the spot to soothe the bite, and whispers, "Love you."

"I know.  Love you too."  She braves herself against the sides of the tub, arms bracketing his head, and goes for her cockiest smile.  "So you gonna fuck me or what?"

There's a moment of dazed hesitation before he snarls and starts thrusting up at a brutal pace.  It's an awkward position, but it doesn't even hinder him in the least.  And _damn_ if it isn't good, letting him take control and take care of her.  If she'd known back on the SR-1 it could be like this, she'd have jumped his bones the first day.  

The thrill of it, of them, of this, is intoxicating.  

She kisses him again, tongue sliding in to fight for dominance with his.  He growls back, his pace not faltering for a second, and rises to the challenge.  His tongue and mouth work against hers, mirroring her movements but always with a bit more force.  Shepard resists the urge to hold him down and _force_  his submission, mostly because this is too much fun.

When a hand trails up her side and slips under her top to brush against her nipple, her breath catches in her throat.  She clenches around him and he bucks up in response.  He repeats the movement with the same result, and she can _hear_  the gears turning in his head.  

And then, _finally_ , he's ripping clothes off of her and her bikini top disappears into the nearby brush.  His hands are everywhere, caressing and squeezing and even pinching ( _fuck_  why is _that_  so damn good?) and damn if she isn't at his mercy.  But when he angles his head down to lick the pebbled flesh of her right nipple, that's what does her in and she shouts as she comes.  

Garrus chuckles, too damn pleased with himself, and only needs a few more thrusts before he's choking out her name in a strangled sob.  

She collapses against him with heavy limbs.  She's vaguely aware of him hugging her and nuzzling against her forehead, but her brain can't quite process it.  

"That was fun," she slurs.  He grunts in reply, no more willing to get up than she is.  They stay like that a while longer.  The silence, normally so oppressive with her previous partners, is the most comfortable she's ever known.  Because damn if it isn't nice to be here with Garrus.

Too soon, his softening cock slips out and disappears back into his plates.  She winces and squirms in his hold until he lets go.  "Ugh, we should get out.  I'm starting to get all pruny."  She holds up her hands so he can see the pads of her fingers, wrinkly from the hour she's spent in the hot tub.  

"Is that normal?"

Shepard lightly punches his shoulder.  "Yes, asshole, it's normal.  Which you'd know, if you'd spend more than ten minutes in the shower with me."  He seems skeptical but doesn't argue.  "C'mon, let's go snuggle in that huge bed and watch cheesy sitcoms."

She stands up and offers him a hand.  He looks at it skeptically, as if he isn't going to join her.  

"Only if we order room service."

"Deal."


End file.
